


Kriff.

by LunaOnVaVoir



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars
Genre: F/M, One Shot, forcetime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaOnVaVoir/pseuds/LunaOnVaVoir
Summary: Forcetime is a troll. Space kiddos are awkward. One shot AF.





	Kriff.

Rey is alone in her room on the new resistance base. Too tired this evening from moving into this latest base to train or work ... she finds herself mulling over the events with Ben... Kylo? Who even knows. She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. 

She wasn’t sure that the bond was still there… for something indicated by silence, it had been… uncharacteristically silent.

Rey decides she’s is ok with that, she’s beyond busy with the resistance … And she’s not sure she’s up to cute chats with Kylo.   
She has decided to wait. 

Besides what could she possibly say.

She’s reflects that having waited most of her life she is good at it.   
It rarely works out as she expects, but it always has served her well in the end. So she plans on waiting… talking to him isn’t part of waiting.

Still as she muses on the situation she was pleased the bond seemed to survive Snoke’s death… even if it’s been absent since Crait, and just as that thought forms … all the sound dies away in her room.

Figures.

She’s been looking absently at the pieces of the saber in her lap... and without moving she senses Kylo just standing there, hands behind his back, as if he had been looking out at something.   
She can just see his profile from under her lashes... instead of looking at him directly, (because that seems to do strange things to her) she focuses on what he might do... she can’t start to guess what he’s feeling or thinking.

Rey knows she didn’t ask something easy of him… but then again he hadn’t thought what he asked of her all the way through either.

Impulse. They both had acted on impulse. 

She decides that was a good thing at least. That they both impulsively wanted togetherness. How to bridge the gap, that was kriffing hard though.

How could they? Even if the war could be put aside... there was the war within Kylo too… he was no longer a Jedi and he had crimes to atone for… the thought of Han was *not* a good one... yelling would get them no where.   
Back to the point then - he wasn’t a Jedi (anymore) and she wasn’t truly a Jedi herself. With no teacher she had been wondering how she’d manage to be helpful at all to her friends… to her new family.   
She had started to wonder what would have happened if she’d said yes. In the few brief evenings she hadn’t fallen asleep immediately she had fantasies of saying yes… and then ordering the fleet to disengage. Pulling equal rank on Kylo had seemed implausible… but the more she reflects on his actions (…and interactions... no. She chokes that thought off. That’s not a good path for her composure either.) the more she wonders if he wouldn’t have allowed it had she said yes… but that was a might and a maybe… if she’d right about the true nature of the offer… then he didn’t really want her to agree like that, as a tactic.   
She didn’t want him to own her, or to own him … she wants them to be free and themselves or not at all. She guesses not at all given he’s not spoke yet either. Maybe she was wrong about his feelings...

She’s startled and bit disoriented when he quietly chuckles.

“What?!” Slips from her without thought as she looks up at him.

“I never thought I’d have so much in common with a resistance pilot”

Surprised at his tone of voice, gentle, lightly amused… even maybe warm? … she looks right into his eyes without a second thought.  
The connection ends.

“Kriff!”

She had just noticed the small half smile of self mockery when he disappeared.  
“Kriffing hell…” she murmurs as she slumps back onto her bed. 

 

**********

 

Kylo is on the observation deck, staring out at the stars.

He’s musing, now he can muse ... all the free space in his head is strange. Snoke filled quite a lot of his thoughts both intentionally and in that secret place he kept from him... now that he’s free... Kylo isn’t sure what he wants. So he guesses musing is what happens in his head now. So much free space to think. 

It’s strange. 

Unsettling. 

He knows he always wanted to have approval, Solo’s, his … mother’s, Skywalker’s, his grandfather’s, Snoke’s… and now … now he has the First Order, IS the First Order.

He is the supreme leader.

No longer in need of any approval… and craving it more desperately than ever.

Her’s.

 

Her.

 

Rey.

Kriff.

He wonders that the bond survived Snoke’s death... only to go silent.   
Regardless he doesn’t know what he’d say, there are too many questions.   
She left him, took his grandfather’s saber (that she broke!) ... rejected him.   
Yet ... she clipped his saber to his belt, and when he saw her that last time ... he’s still not sure if he can’t ... or won’t ... understand what was written on her face... but it gives him a strange feeling to think of that last encounter. 

So he decides he is more grateful than resentful that the connection hasn’t happened again since Crait. There. One thing decided. 

As if on cue, the moment he feels accomplished about his musing not being ALL endless circles... the noises of the supremacy drop away and she’s there.

He mentally rolls his eyes, of course it would spring to life NOW.

And yet…

He looks. He has to.  
   
He’s always pulled into her orbit.

Rey.

She’s on a bench to his right and she’s sitting so still... She looks so tired. 

She’s is staring into her lap... she has to know he’s there… and yet her face has frozen into something … neutral?

No, not neutral.

Melancholy?

Bitter sweet?

Kylo sighs internally… he’s probably just projecting.

He still doesn’t know what to say … he has so many questions, and no idea where to start. 

 

... Maybe that’s why she looks like she does, maybe she’s lost in thought? Frozen mid realization?

 

Unbidden the image of the resistance pilot (Dameron?) comes to mind, his quick “so who goes first? do you speak? Do I speak?”

And despite his desperate need to hear her voice (the lilt of her accent), to talk to her, to ask her, to shout at her (he wants to ... but never seems to actually manage even sounding angry with her anymore), to make her *see* … he finds himself chuckling lowly at the memory, and how he feels a certain kinship now with the man.

He’d looked away when the image of Dameron’s false bravado came to him, but as he laughed she startled out of her revelry and looked up at him.

“What?!” Her tone of voice is absent, surprised, but not harsh… and he falls into step with her mood without conscious thought, feeling strangely grateful that for once she’s not shouting (she’s ALWAYS shouting and so damn sure about it too, he likes that, but a change is...) he mentally shakes himself and responds - the amusement still there as he speaks.

“I never thought I’d have so much in common with a resistance pilot”

He feels a small ironic smile touch the corner of his mouth… it feels… strange.

She finally looks at him ... he sees her eyes… and the connection severs.

 

He sighs heavily, and in that gentle tone only she pulls out of him that he swears he’d buried (along with that *name* ... that she called him... she ... no. He chokes that thought right off. No good.) he curses.

“Kriff.”

He knows it sounds ... well, he’s not sure he even cares how it sounds.


End file.
